Summary/Request: James Barnes is the local neighbourhood cop known for saving cats from trees and walking people home at night. It just so happens that he lives in your apartment building, in the apartment across from yours.

Here are some things I’ve experienced during the summer when there is a heatwave in the UK.

- when I was at school we didn’t have a single fan in the classroom, because we ‘wouldnt use it enough’. I ended up passing out because our school uniform involved a tie that had to be done right to the top with the top button done up. I had to be carried by the deputy head teacher down to the sick office where 5 other students were sat in front of a massive fan. All had passes out. We don’t have AC in schools, some classes don’t have a fan.

- in a heatwave we were made to do a 1 mile run. In PE we also had uniform. The tops are thick because we don’t normally get such heat. We had students get heatstroke.

- we had thick black blazers. When I say thick I mean if I snowed I could still walk to and from school in just my shirt and blazer and black trouser. We had to ask to take these off in class. Yeh, in the classes with no AC and no fan.

- we had big windows, but it was a massive pain if you wasn’t next to a window in the seating plan. Because it meant you got nothing. And we could only open them part way because things flew everywhere.

- if you had IT, good luck. That’s Satan’s room.

- walking to and from class, you was lucky if you had to walk outside to get to your class. But that’s where the luck stopped. Walking outside meant you had PE or woodwork. And woodwork meant hot machines and not Windows that opened.

Okay enough about school.

- my first job was in a warehouse. 10 hours a day no break. Only the doors open that allow in deliveries. I shit you not, one of the thermometers in the corner said 100°c. We were told to avoid that area and it only said that much because of machines (bullshit).

- it was like a fucking greenhouse. The machines chucked out heat quicker than we could get it out. I said I needed a break from my machine because I was hot (The uniform again was thick for when It was winter) I was told I’m over reacting. I passed out. We had one guy taken away in an ambulance the week after because it was too hot. They wouldn’t send us home because they would lose money. We couldn’t walk out because we would have no job.

- the hospitals struggle because of the amount of babies and elderly people that end up in there with heat related problems. Our houses are built to keep heat in. People die. If it gets bad, we had adverts on tv’s to warn us.

- I live opposite a doctor’s surgery and next to that is an ambulance station. A lot of elderly people live down my road. The crew go up and down the street to make sure elderly people are okay and to see if anyone needs to go to the hospital.

- and lastly. As I have been writing this something hasn’t felt right. My screen protector on my phone has started to melt. I’m in the shade.

The problem with the Lazarus solution (as it was shown) is that the sniper would have seen an airbag that size. I’ve been to that street in front of St. Bart’s – it’s a narrow little circle around an ambulance station. There is no way someone on a nearby upper floor could miss seeing a giant blue airbag being hustled out of the way. Sherlock lied.

You snuck into Mycroft’s office, knowing he was still here and would be back to lock up. He was surprised to see you sitting in his chair, reading through Kitty’s unpublished story.

“She has really done her homework Miss Riley. There’s things that only someone close to Sherlock could know.” You spoke. Mycroft laid down his umbrella and briefcase.

“Ah.” Mycroft spoke, closing the door.

“So how does it work then? Your relationship with Moriarty? You go out for a coffee now and then, huh? You and Jim? Your own brother and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac?” You asked, disappointed.

“I never intended… I never dreamt–” Mycroft said.

“This, see, this is what you were trying to tell me, isn’t it? Watch his back, because I’ve fucked up.” You scowled at him. “How did you meet him?”

“People like him, we know about them, we watch them. But James Moriarty, the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket, the ultimate weapon, a key code. A few lines of computer code that can unlock any door.” Mycroft said, and you were still angry.

“And you abducted him? To try and find the key code.” You followed.

“Interrogated him for weeks. He wouldn’t play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up… I could get him to talk. Just a little, but–” Mycroft spoke before you cut him off.

“In return, you had to offer him Sherlock’s life story. So there’s one big lie, Sherlock’s a fraud, but people will swallow it because the rest of it is true. Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition.” You argued.

“Y/N… I’m sorry.” Mycroft said genuinely.

“I trusted you!” You cried. “I didn’t tell Sherlock because I trusted you, and look where that’s gotten us. He deserves to know, Mycroft. Moriarty is going to kill him, and you helped! You said you take care of your family, then stop him. Save him.” You told him. Storming out of his office, leaving the copy of Kitty’s story.

You stepped out to the curb to hail a cab, and one was slowly approaching you, before another cut in front of it and pulled up next to you. You furrowed your brow, but got in. You were more worried about how you were going to tell Sherlock you were pregnant. You needed to tell him, before it was too late. He needed your help.

“Barts Hospital.” You told the cabbie, he nodded. The trip should have only taken 5 minutes from the Diogenes Club. You were so deep in thought that you hadn’t realized it was taking much longer than it should. You looked at your phone, no signal. Where the hell were you? You looked out the window and noticed they were almost blacked out. Before you could yell or protest, the car slammed to a stop.

Your door was ripped open and you were pulled out of the car by two strong hands. Before you could put up a fight a syringe was stabbed into your neck and your body went limp in his arms. The last thing you saw before everything went black were a pair of green eyes.

When you woke up, you didn’t know how much time had passed. It felts like days, but it could have been hours. As your eyes adjusted to the bright light, you saw that your ankles and wrists were bound. You were on your knees at the top of a building facing Barts Hospital. You made the mistake of looking down, even though you were afraid of heights. You began to squirm when you saw how far off the ground you were.

You were yanked back by your wrists and your eyes met the same green ones you had seen before slipping into unconsciousness. He was now holding a gun.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting, Sebastian Moran.” He flashed a cheeky smile with a slight Irish accent. “Though of course I know who you are.”

You tried to speak, though that was impossible with the cloth in your mouth.

“Here let me help you out there love,” he bent down and untied the gag from around your head, “Better?”

“If you were going to kill me you would have done it by now, what do you want?” You asked, bravely.

Your eyes connected with Sherlock across the way as he stepped up onto the ledge. You shook your head furiously as tears spilled from your eyes. This wasn’t happening, he wasn’t going to do it, he couldn’t.

You saw him begin to laugh… what the hell was he playing at? He turned around and Moriarty began to yell. You looked to Moran and he was confused as well. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sherlock jumped off of the ledge back onto the roof.

You were confused as well, what was he trying to do? Did he think he could make Jim Moriarty call off the killers? You weren’t sure what was happening. Moriarty stuck out his hand for Sherlock to shake. He took it slowly. As long as Sherlock had Moriarty, there was a way out of this. You felt a glimmer of hope. Suddenly you saw Moriarty pull a gun and fire it into his mouth. Sherlock stumbled backwards, surprised by his actions. No, there was no way out now. One of you were not getting out of this alive.

You looked up to Moran, his eyes were wide in shock… this wasn’t part of the plan, he didn’t know how far he was willing to go to destroy Sherlock.

Sherlock now had his hands on his head, he didn’t think it would have gone this far.

He stepped up on the ledge again. You tried to scream, shake your head, stop him from doing this. He took out his phone and held it to his ear, you didn’t know who he was calling but you glanced down to the ground and saw John there, on his phone, looking up to Sherlock.

A light rain was now beginning to fall as Sherlock threw the phone behind him. You heard John yell his name. Before you knew it, everything was happening in slow motion. Sherlock looked up to you once more, before jumping. You screamed as loud as you could, but it came out muffled. Your view of the ground was blocked by the ambulance station, but you heard it. You heard him hit the ground, you heard the screams of people standing nearby.

You fell back, breathing heavily, not believing your own eyes. You looked around and Sebastian Moran was gone, and you were all alone. All alone. Somehow you managed to removed the robes from your wrists and ankles, and remove the gag from your mouth. You stood to find the exit, and stumbled to your knees again. Everything hurt: your legs, you wrists, your head, and your heart. You somehow managed to make it down out of the building. You saw John, being held back by paramedics as Sherlock was wheeled away.

“JOHN!” You screamed and tried to run to him, though your legs were weak. You made it to him, then saw the blood on the ground, you dropped to your knees and held your head in your hands as you cried, as you shook, and as you grieved.

Hiya medic! I was wondering for a kind of post-apocalyptic character of mine if you can suffocate someone with a fire extinguisher? I know that extinguishers pretty much "suffocate" fires, but can they suffocate people?

Hey there! Thanks for
asking. This is an interesting topic, so I hope you don’t mind if I nerd out a
little bit! Fire extinguishers come in multiple types. If you’re talking
about the hand-held, portable ones, mostly they’re filled with something called
ANSUL. While I could look up what that name is, I’ll tell you what it is: it’s
baking soda. Sodium bicarbonate.

I know this because one day I was gassing up the ambulance
at a gas station and a car nearby caught fire and the freaking overhead fire
extinguishers went off. The sucker covered my entire ambulance cab in dust, because it was hot and I left the
window open, and I was covered in the stuff.

When the firefighters arrived to put out the car, I asked
some very pointed questions about whether or not this stuff was good for me and
my health, because I’m just silly like that.

Turns out the overhead stuff is the same as what’s in most
extinguishers. Turns out I could have taken it home and baked with it.

(Because Tumblr does not have a SINGLE DAMN GIF of an actual fire extinguisher?!!!)

ANSUL acts more as a respiratory irritant than it does as an
actual asphyxiant. The way a hand-held extinguisher works is to push the air out
of an area and basically replace it with inert dust so that the fire doesn’t
get oxygen to burn. Is good! Is works! And is also not great for human
consumption.

I suppose, if your character shoved an ANSUL canister in
someone’s face and kept squeezing it whenever they tried to inhale, that you
could suffocate them that way. I do know that you could theoretically cause a
fatal asthma attack, because ANSUL is
a respiratory irritant.

So I haven’t done the lab testing to confirm that you can
murder a human with a fire extinguisher by using what’s in the extinguisher rather than the hard metal can itself, but I’m
going to go with “sure, if you did it right” for this one.

OMG! I broke my own heart writing this. JB is my bias from GOT7. I hope you enjoy. Also three things, first grabbed some napkins because you might be teary or bawling from this story. Secondly, I listened to their new song 'If you do' and ‘Baby don’t cry’ by EXO-M, so I am like a mess of sadness and tears. Thirdly, I am not going to continue A Forgotten Memory series because I feel like it is all tied up as well as the Saranghae scenario.

- Admin Talia

You twirled in the
rolling chair making circles. Laughter filling the room. Your playful banter
was getting JB upset even more. He has been stuck on this song for a while now.
He invited you to help him, but was regretting it. You tried to help, yet he always
blew off your suggestions. Being silly and goofing around kept you from feeling
like a burden to him.

“Y/N! I am
trying to work!” He yelled his voice echoing in the studio. You flinched,
hurt filling you as you look down ashamed. You stop your movement and took
interest of the gray title beneath your feet.

“I an sorry
oppa. Do you want me to go get food?” You asked quietly shifting to stand
up.

“Why don’t you
do that.” He replied sarcastically his eyes locked onto the screen of the
computer monitor. You bit back a tort for it could cause an unnecessary
argument.

Gathering your
things you went to open the door. “I am leaving, I will be back.”

“Finally!”
He mutter under his breath loud enough for you to here. This angered you as you
slam the door shut, leaving.

Walking to a nearby
sandwich shop by JYP. Usually you went somewhere else, but this was JB favorite
and you wanted to make it up to him. It started raining harshly as you were
then drenched. Slipping inside the small shop you notice there was only a elderly
woman. Glancing outside to see small light objects being pulled by the wind.
Upon hearing the crackle of the TV you turn your attention to it.

The news report
already was over, everyone had to stay in doors for about five hours until it
was over. The reporter said it was to be a very bad monsoon. Frowning you
remember this morning, when they said it was to be sunny and no clouds. You
were mostly worried about JB, hoping he was okay. You went thru your bag
searching for your phone. Then you remembered that you left it charging with
JB.

Asking the older
woman for a phone, she replied that all she had was a landline. Leading you
towards it the power suddenly cut off. Wind knocking against the glass as the
building rattled. Fear struck you like lighting, you hated thunderstorms ever
since you were little. The elderly looked at you sympathetically, she had given
you a towel to dry off as well as a blanket. Trying to calm the nervousness in
the room, you shared a small conversation.

“Are you
married?” Asked the woman as she played with what you assumed is her
wedding ring.

“No, but I do
have someone I care deeply for.” You breathed out cold as you shivered.
You quickly placed the blanket over the woman as harsh coughing racked her
frail body.

“What is your
name?” You asked rubbing her shoulders.

“Anna”

JB waited for you to
return. Another 30 minutes gone by as his worry grew gradually. He knew
you were upset, but you usually were very understanding. He even tried calling
you when he realized you had left your phone with him in the studio. Gathering
his things he went to leave, but was blocked by a rather enormous crowd.

“Jackson!
Mark!” JB yelled over the loud angered voices. He caught the attention of
his band mates.

“JB, they said
it is a monsoon. A pretty bad one.” Jackson huffed out as he arrive to JB,
with Mark.

“I sure she is
fine. She is a strong girl.” Jackson reassured him placing his hand on JB
shoulder as comfort.

Yeah, but why did
she leave?“ Mark asked to no one in particular. He saw JB wince his face
down casted as if someone shredded his heart.

"She went to
get food.” it was the truth he just didn’t go into detail. Taking his
chances he left his things with his friends and made a mad dash outside to his
car. Slamming the car shut he wiped the
rain from his face and started up the car to being his pursuit for you.

Your scream echo thru
the small shop as a flash of lighting struck the front of the shop. This cause
the sign in front to fall blocking the entrance. Anna tried to detract your
attention away from the storm.

“Tell me more
about this boy.” Anna asked before another patch of rough cough’s emitted
from her chest.

“Well he is a
hard worker and a leader. Sometimes it seem like he is cold or tough, but a
total softie in private.” You smiled recalling all the times you and JB
were together. Anna looked at you as you excitedly told her all of your
stories. After chatting for a while you came to find out that Anna was sick
with lung cancer and was expected to die soon.

“You are
married aren’t you?” You asked curiously trying to find light in this dark
situation.

“Yes and I have
three children.” Now it was your turn to listen to her stories with a
smile. You could see her eyes lit up with such pride and enjoy of having a
family. You wish that JB was here with you as regret occupy your chest with a
horrible ache.

“We’ll make it
out I promise.” You tried to ease her worry’s away. Settling on your
makeshift bed of blankets you both fell asleep.

JB searched
everywhere for you he knew you wouldn’t be far. Especially if you had to walk a
lot you were quite lazy. He stopped by each of your favorite restaurants with
in a good distance from JYP. He had a
strange urge to stop by the sandwich shop that was close by. He got out of the
car being careful not to be dragged by the forceful wind. He peeked around the
fallen sign to you laying on the floor with an older woman. His heart jumped to
his throat assuming the worst and panicked.

He whipped out his
phone and punched in the number calling for an ambulance, police, and fire
station. He notice how the wind slowed a
bit, but was thundering and raining heavily. He started to bang on the glass
calling out to you. As all the emergency vehicles arrived.

You were instantly
awoken by numerous shouting and movement. Furrowing your eyebrows you shifted
softly to sit up. Then you heard the loudest of voice yell your named. Whipping
you head around almost breaking you neck your eyes locked onto a desperate emotional
JB.

Looking around you
spotted Anna behind you unmoving. You quickly shook her to wake up. With no
response you grew scared, shaking her more. Checking for a pulse your blood
froze over cold, tears poured down your cheeks as you choke back a sob. You
watched her face that held a graceful smile holding onto her wedding ring. You
couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a heart wrenching wail of distress.
You only knew her for a little while, but she was a sweet, caring lady.

The door at the
entrance was flung open as JB dashed to you. He held you tightly as you cried,
you fought against him as he dragged you away from the heartbreaking scene to
let the medics help. His hold on you was so great you feared JB was unstable as
silent tears fell into you hair his face buried in it. You both were a mess,
but clung onto each other like a lifeline. Standing up you had to grasp JB for
support as you knees shook and wobbled. You made way to his car, but stopped
when you saw an older man crying as he held onto Anna hand. Running over to him
you softly explain what happened, then gave him a hug to return back to JB.

Pulling into the
driveway of your apartment, you both treaded inside with no words exchanged.
Going upstairs you turn on the shower waiting for it to run warm. Returning to
the bedroom you saw JB sitting on the edge his face tilted down as he breathe
ruggedly. Walking up to him you stood between his legs and started to undress
him to get him in the shower. Once done you lead him into the steaming
bathroom, before you could leave he stopped you. He slowly took off your
clothing, letting his finger tips linger as he examined you, to him it was like
worshipping a beautiful goddess. Pulling you into the shower you both help
clean each, until the water turned cold.

Shutting of the
faucet he stepped out to dry himself, then proceed to lift you up in a towel
and carried you to bed. He gently placed on the bed getting rid of the towel
you both slipped under the thick warm duvet. He circled you waist and dragged
you up to his chest. He enjoyed your bare skin against his as warmth radiated
off of you. Interlocking fingers you both drifted off to sleep.

Request: Hi! :) could you do one where Dean gets hurt on a hunt but tries to hide it from the reader because he doesn’t want to look weak but the reader can tell and tries to help him.

Request: Do one where dean gets really hurt and is in the hospital and you find out about while you are on a hunt. So you worry like crazy and go to his bed side and hold his hand because you’re in love with him

You had no idea where Sam or Dean were, and you hoped they were okay. You were hunting a few demons that had infested a town, and you found their hideout; some cliche warehouse just outside of town. You’d all split up, and you were walking through a few rooms by yourself.

Sherlolly prompt: Anderson tells Sherlock his best theory - the one that involved Sherlock and Molly making out.

So I tried and failed to make this work, I do hope you aren’t too disappointed. TBH I’ve been swamped with work, not that that is any excuse. Well, here goes….

“Bit disappointed.”

“What?”

“Well… It’s not how I’d have done it.”

“Oh, everyone’s a critic. Go on then, how do you think I did it?” Sherlock smirked at Anderson as he sat in a small chair in front of the camera.

“Well. If you had a bungee cord, that would work wouldn’t it? And… Stop laughing at me!” Anderson glared at him. “If you aren’t going to take me seriously, I won’t tell you.”

Sherlock visibly sobered, slipping into the cold detached mask Anderson was used to.

“Right. Well. I think that there are a number of ways you could have done it, but this is my favourite, cause its the most likely. In my opinion.”

Sherlock muttered under his breath, something sounding eerily like idiot, why am I listening to this and Molly.

“Anyway, well. I don’t really know how to start. Oh, well you had no idea Moriarty would definitely shoot himself in the face, so I assume you had a number of back up plans, and then when he did shoot himself, you texted Molly to get the silicon face mask and contacts ready for his face-”

“What!? Anderson, that is preposterous. How was I supposed to have gotten the exact measurements for his face?”

“I’ve thought about that. Molly. She was in a relationship with him, she must have told you. Any way, you’re interrupting again. So, she’s got the mask ready and waiting, whilst you are on the roof, trying not to die, with a bungee cord wrapped securely around your waist and anchored to something on the roof.

"You’re in the ledge, waiting, on the phone to John and drop the phone, then leap off the building, so all John sees is you fall, as you’re hidden by the ambulance station and he is knocked over by one of your homeless network on a bike, Derren Brown hypnotises him- don’t look at me like that.”

Sherlock’s face was frozen in disbelief and mirth, staring at Anderson in shock.

“Ah hem. Yes… Okay continuing, Derren Brown makes sure he doesn’t see you bungee back up, and Molly throws the masked Moriarty out of the window that you crashed through, whilst you undo the bungee cord, flick your coat out, ruffle your hair and reach for Molly’s face slowly, bringing her lips forcefully to yours in a soul searing kiss that makes her knees nearly give out, so she reaches her hand up to your face, cupping it gently as you deepen the kiss, both of you breathless as you pull away from her, turn and leave Barts without looking back. Obviously, John reaches dead Moriarty, feels for a pulse and can’t find one so believes that you are dead, and breaks down so-”

Sherlock’s shocked laugh interrupted him.

“What the hell? That’s what you… That’s what you think?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with it? As long as the cord was tied securely, it would work! Besides it is much more feasible than yours. Maybe not the Derren Brown bit..”

Sherlock sat in the chair, laughing incredulously.

“You put a lot of effort into that kiss. Why would I kiss Molly? Her lips are too small, as are her breasts, she would quite honestly be described as mousy at best and most people seem to believe John and I are in a relationship, despite Mary being his fiancee.”

“Ah, but there. You’re defensive, and insulting Molly. I’ve been thinking since you’ve been away-”

“Always a bad idea, Philip.”

“Well I’ve been thinking and analysing you over the past two years, and I’ve noticed you only insult people when you are bored, defensive or hiding something. I think it’s the last two.”

Anderson leaned back smugly as Sherlock schooled his face into an impassive mask.

“Well if that is all, I have things to be doing, cases to solve, the sort of thing you wouldn’t know about since being… let go.” He stood, gathering his scarf and Belstaff.

“Not quite yet, I haven’t finished yet. So once you escape Barts, you go to Molly’s to hide out for a bit, out of the way so no one realises you’re not dead except for me, and then she gets home to find you passed out from exhaustion in her bed, she hasn’t the heart to move you, but the spare bed is covered in boxes and the sofa is barely big enough for Toby, never mind a fully grown woman.

"So she awkwardly climbs into bed beside you, blushing the entire time with her back firmly turned against you. Then, in the night, you both end up cuddling, and you wake up with her sweet smelling hair against your mouth, arms circling her small waist and her sighing your name gently. You lean down to kiss her on the nose and-”

A soft, gentle voice interrupted him.

“Sherlock, you haven’t been telling him about our time together before you had to rush around saving the world?”

John realising that Sherlock will stop at nothing to stop Moriarty and he can’t let that happen. He can’t lose Sherlock. He won’t! He killed for him once before. He’ll die for him as well.

So John goes to Mycroft, begs him for his help, ‘’because you know Sherlock, Mycroft. He’ll get sucked in and it’ll be too late before either one of us can stop him. Moriarty wants to destroy him and I won’t let him do that…’’

They plan in secret, John watches the trial, controls himself when Moriarty visits Sherlock in 221B. John clenches his jaws when Sherlock pulls away from him, lies to him. He swallows his bile when their world crashes around them and they are forced to run through the streets while the MET and the snipers chase them. He knows he won’t make it back to Baker Street.

John wants to tell him when they are running after Moriarty, who has played them both but Sherlock is gone before he can stop him. He has to move now, he knows, before Sherlock comes back with his own plan in place. He wants to stop him, though. He wants to tell him he loves him, he wants to hold him, beg his forgiveness for what is about to happen. He doesn’t.

Sherlock trusts him. He takes the tea and drinks it. John watches Sherlock as he slumps down his seat. He gently lets him down on the floor, kisses his brow and lingers for a moment. He doesn’t know how long he’ll have to wait before he can even see Sherlock again, but he had to do this. Just once. He’ll have to hurry; Sherlock won’t stay down long.

John reads the message Moriarty sends Sherlock, deletes it after replying, and he sends Sherlock a new message. A new address. Behind the ambulance station.

He goes up onto the roof on his own, revels in the surprise he sees on Moriarty’s face and now their game begins. John doesn’t lie - he always was a terrible liar - but bend the truth just well enough and John gets away with it. He bends his anger, his fear, his grief into the shock he displays when Moriarty tells him about his own snipers and the anger when Moriarty taunts him. He needs to keep Sherlock safe. He’ll die for him and Moriarty knows this.

‘’With you out of the way… Sherlock will finally be free again… Free from that abhorrent sentimental dribble he feels for you. He’ll be mine.’’

John shoots him when Moriarty mentions bringing Sherlock up here for this. To make him watch. One bullet. Right between the eyes. That’s all it takes.

It’s not over. There is Moriarty’s network, his snipers that need questioning. There is still Sherlock’s safety to consider. So John moves closer to the edge, sees the safety precautions underneath him and he sees Sherlock’s shape running - stumbling - over the pavement on the other side of the ambulance station. This is it. The final deception.

Moffat: For those of you who have been worried, of course this is the right explanation. This is the only one it really could be. The other two, they’re not true.

Gatiss: This is a perfectly sound explanation for it.

Moffat: Yeah. And indeed, I’ve always kind of felt people are being a tiny bit slow. The one thing that is very clear from The Reichenbach Fall is John cannot see the point of impact. So— Because of that station there, that ambulance station that is in the middle. So, given that, what do you think happened? Something got in the way. A great big, blue cushion. Why didn’t people get it was a great big, blue cushion?

Somebody called the ambulance in the scene where Sherlock gets shot. We are lead to believe that it was Mary, but Mary never actually confirms or denies this herself. Sherlock assumes it was Mary because the average ambulance response time in London is 8 minutes and John didn’t find Sherlock and call an ambulance until a few minutes before the ambulance arrived. So it couldn’t have been John according to Sherlock. I’m not sure how Sherlock knows this since he was unconscious when John found him, but I’m going to assume that John told him or something like that.

Some people theorize that it could have been very easy for Sherlock to have been mistaken since he was going into shock, and waning in and out of consciousness, so the ambulance John called could arrived right when it should have and Sherlock merely miscalculated the time. Others say that it’s possible that there happened to be an ambulance nearby, or that the building could have been located near an ambulance station, or the traffic that night could have been exceptionally light when John called, so therefore the ambulance John called would have gotten there earlier than expected.

But I don’t think it was Mary or John who phoned the ambulance that saved Sherlock’s life. I think it was Magnussen. Look at the following pictures from the scene.

Here Magnussen is looking up at Mary to see if she is paying any attention to him.

She’s not paying attention to him, so he slowly leans down and grabs for something on the floor, and for at least the next 8 or 9 seconds he’s not looking at Mary or Sherlock. He looks back up right after Mary fires the bullet. In a hostage situation like this I highly doubt anyone would look away from the person with the gun or the person being held at gunpoint, unless they had a damn good reason to. People in such situations describe themselves as being completely immobilized and unable to look away from the heart of the action. So I don’t think he was glancing and leaning down because he was wondering if he remembered to polish his shoes that morning, or because he was bored and the spot on the carpet to his left was more fascinating than the scene going on in front of him. No no. He was definitely reaching for something that he thought would be crucial, something worth grabbing even at the risk of being caught by Mary.

So he goes for it in the moment when Mary is entirely distracted by Sherlock. And looky looky. When the camera angle changes, right after Mary shoots Sherlock, we can see something that definitely looks like a mobile phone on the floor next to him. RIGHT WHERE HE WAS REACHING! He probably dialled emergency services and then just left the phone on so they could track his location. Or maybe he had some kind of emergency button on speed-dial because he is a professional blackmailer and has a lot of enemies who would want him dead. Either way he uses his phone to call an ambulance for Sherlock. Mary probably had him take his phone out of his pocket and place on the floor when she first came in and held him at gunpoint, so that he couldn’t do just that, phone for help!

Why, you might ask, would Magnussen bother to call an ambulance for Sherlock? Well, for one, Magnussen didn’t necessarily know that Mary wouldn’t shoot him instead of Sherlock, or shoot both of them, so he could have been taking the precaution of saving his own neck. But, remember, Magnussen wants to be able to control Mycroft, whose pressure point is Sherlock. If Sherlock was to die, Magnussen would lose his only hold on the most powerful man in the British nation.

Take a look at this scene yourself. It looks much more convincing when you see it in motion. Just watch Magnussen in the background. It totally looks like he’s reaching down for that phone!

Question about Mary shooting Sherlock (sort of): I'm not sure if this is true for the whole USA, I can only speak for my experiences and the experiences of some people I know, but when we have called ambulances in the past, if there was already one on its way, we would be told that. Is that true for London? If it is, wouldn't John have been told that an ambulance had been called (which he clearly wasn't)? You have great meta, thank for all you do.

This is a very interesting question and I had to hop over to the ambulance station after work to ask them! The London Ambulance service has an automated central exchange which directs calls to the nearest ambulance station to where the call is originating from.

Apparently if the request/details are the same for both calls, the operator will specifically ask the caller if he/she knows that another call has already been put out from the same address for the same thing. If they do, the operator actually politely tells that person off! I couldn’t believe this either but these guys take repeat calls very seriously.

If the person doesn’t know, they are assured that an ambulance is already going to that address.

However the ambulance calls for Sherlock after the shooting are a special case.

The address both Mary (the first caller) and John (the second caller) gave to the operator would be the same but that address incorporates an entire office block. It is likely that the building has its own special name, as many office buildings do. Operators generally know the area that they cover very well. London has some well defined commercial/business districts. I have been told that the computer system holds information on certain addresses, which tell the operator what kind of an establishment it is. Thus even if the operator knew nothing about London, they should know that the address both Mary and John gave was of a whole office block.

I am sure that both callers gave the specific floor number, but, for the operator, there is no way of knowing whether two separate shootings have happened on the same floor, even if the descriptions are same. Remember that one ambulance can only take a maximum of one severely injured casualty and at most 2 light casualties who can sit upright. When John phones up the ambulance he would not just be phoning for Sherlock, he’d also be phoning for all the people who had been knocked out by Mary. Even if there was already an ambulance going to the building, they are now going to need more than just one ambulance. Thus the operator in this case would just send a second ambulance (and perhaps a third).

Imagine Requested: Okay so this might be weird but can you do a calum imagine where you guys fight and then something happens and he thinks you died but you’re alive?

_ _ _ _

Here we were again, another night, another fight. They were always pointless little arguments, the dishes weren’t done, I forgot to put the seat down, little things like that. But this one was different for some reason. I followed Y/N through the hall of our apartment as she rushed to gather her belongings into her duffle bag.

“Y/N, c’mon, you can’t seriously be leaving right now! It’s almost midnight, and where are you even going?!”

“My mom’s, a friend’s, I don’t know! All I do know is that I need to get out of here for a night or two, I need some space!” She hissed, rummaging through her designated drawers in our closet looking for whatever. She definitely wasn’t budging on this one, but there was no way in hell I was going to let her leave that easily.

“Babe, please, let me make you some tea and let’s just… TALK!” She continued to bustle through the small space we shared as she gathered the last of essentials, “You can’t seriously be leaving right now, please just, stop for a second—“

“No, Calum, you don’t control me. Just let me go!…” then, just like that, Y/N was grabbing her keys and was out the door, the room suddenly silent without her. Seconds passed before I finally came to my senses and started moving again, figuring she wasn’t going to come back to night.

Maybe I really did fuck up this time. I thought as I walked to our bedroom and lay down in the half empty bed that was cold and lifeless without Y/N in it beside me. There was no way I was getting any sleep tonight that was for sure. But in one last attempt, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocking it and sending out a single text to her. I’m sorry, take your time, but please come home to me.

I stared at the screen until the small subtext showed the definite delivered, then, I lay away patiently waiting for some response.

_ _ _ _

Running on little to no sleep, the next day was a struggle. Not only had Y/N still not sent any reply to any of my texts or calls, neither were any of her friends. To say I was worried would be an understatement. Just as I was about to call her again, my phone started to vibrate with an incoming call, Michael. Sighing, I answered the call; I needed to hear something to break this deafening silence.

“Hey, Mikey.”

“Bro, did you hear about those break-ins that happened this morning? Apparently there were some casualties…” What was he telling me this for? I mean, that’s tragic and all, but I have other problems.

“Um, no? Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, I think it happened in the neighbor hood the Y/N’s best friend lives in.. Is Y/N doing ok with it?” I shot up at that. I mean, what are the chances that Y/N went there last night… Pretty high.

“I—I don’t know… Y/N left last night after a fight. Mike, I got to go.” Hanging up before he could get a word in, I was out the door and in my car driving towards the neighborhood the break-ins supposedly was. Pulling up minutes later, there were police cars everywhere and an ambulance stationed outside one of the apartment buildings. Immediately, I spotted Y/F/N, parked my car and ran up to her.

“Calum? What are you doing here?”

“Is—did Y/N come here last night? Is she ok, she’s not—“ I was all over the place, my thoughts scattered all over the place.

“Whoa, calm down! No, she called me last night, but she was heading to her mom’s. She’s fine, Calum, everything is fine.” It was then that I finally let out a sigh of relief, she was safe, and, for the second time that day, my phone started ringing. My favorite picture of Y/N popping up.

“Y/N, thank god, I’ve been losing my shit all morning!”

“Yeah, Michael just called me and said you were kinda freaking out… Is everything alright?” I was silent for a moment, letting the sound of her voice run through my head, finally feeling at peace.

“Much better…”

_ _ _ _

Finally getting back into requests! Hooray! As always, sorry for the wait, I’m definitely going to be taking some time to dedicate to the requests, so no worries, it might be a little slow the next couple of weeks, but it’s all going to be alright, we will survive!